It’s 5am in Lisbon and I’ve been wide awake for jetlagged hours, wallowing indulgently in the transient space between travel and home. Weirdly, I like these moments for their indefinability. I was away, soaring on the breeze with wings spread wide and I’m coming into land, but I’m not quite there yet. I need to grow up soon, but am forgiven for a few hours of slightly incoherent irresponsibility.
This juncture between Christmas and the New Year is traditionally primed for reflection and evaluation and I love this time of year for that very reason. I’ve LOL’ed at the 2016 disaster year memes (a close mate told me yesterday, not completely ironically, that the events of this year have forced him to ignore all media and revert to a life of ‘PlayStation and pot’, which makes total sense), but on a personal level it’s been an amazing year of change and surprise. 
 
I’ve travelled on five continents plus Hawaii which is geographically continentless, because it’s too cool for these kind of restrictive labels. Deepened existing friendships. Forged new ones. Worked hard and stretched my boundaries professionally. Taught my first yoga retreat by myself. Fallen gently in love when I very least expected, and am currently reveling in the brilliant inconvenient joy it brings. Come to a deeper place of gratitude and acceptance, which has the awesome effect of making my experience of life a fuckload easier in a bunch of ways. 
 
Right now I feel all kind of emotions. Tears are drying on my cheeks (I blame Spotify and more specifically Ana Carolina and Seu Jorge) but I have never been happier. I feel scared and alone but also loved and connected. There are a few changes scheduled for 2017, all of which bring a smile to my lips, even in my current sleep deprived emo state. 
 
This year has taught me a pile of lessons. The biggest is to stay open, and acknowledge that while plans are great, true, bewildering magic happens when I am capable of taking a risk.